


Carry That Weight

by burnmedown (katriel1987)



Category: 12 Monkeys (TV)
Genre: Bromance, Character Study, Episode: s01e11 Shonin, Episode: s01e13 Arms of Mine, Gen, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-14
Updated: 2016-01-14
Packaged: 2018-05-13 21:07:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5717134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katriel1987/pseuds/burnmedown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The last José Ramse saw of James Cole, his brother was on the floor, hand to his belly like he could keep the blood inside.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Carry That Weight

**Author's Note:**

> A brief look at José Ramse's point of view for episode 1x11, with added dialogue from 1x13. Because this bromance KILLS ME.
> 
> Spoilers for episode 1x11 "Shonin," obviously, and vague for episode 1x13 "Arms of Mine."

The last José Ramse saw of James Cole, his brother was on the floor, hand to his belly like he could keep the blood inside.

Ramse knew Cole's every expression, every tone of his voice. Cole was on his knees when Ramse left—still had his eyes open, feral and fierce, and still somehow managing to talk. He was dying, though. Fighting it to the last. That ragged voice, the little gasps he couldn't quite hold in—that was Cole at his worst, weak and fading. Ramse had heard it before, too often. Had pulled Cole through every single time.

This time, he'd put him there. The knife and the fight and the blood on his hands—

Ramse tried to forget. He tried  _so damn hard,_ as his life went to shit but he kept on living. Through the long years that followed, through the beatings and the books, he tried to dream of nothing but his son. Of holding Sam, seeing Sam's beautiful eyes again, his smile like Elena's.

But when Ramse closed his eyes, he saw Cole's face pallid and drawn as the blood poured from him. When Ramse inhaled, he tasted copper and spilled liquor, sharp as broken glass.

Cole was gone. Cole was  _dead._ Ramse could tell himself a thousand times, a million, that he'd had no choice, that Cole might have killed _him_ if he hadn't struck first. None of it would ever fill the pit in his soul. Because they'd been  _brothers,_ they'd kept each other alive, they had always come back for each other, and Ramse had—he had—

He looked at his ruined hands sometimes, and knew that the last thing he had touched of his brother, the last thing he ever would, was the blood from when he'd killed him.

Ramse had to save Sam now. He  _had_ to. Or the worst thing he had ever done would mean nothing at all.

* * *

_\- Cole. You're alive._

_\- You were my brother._

_\- I know. I thought I killed you. I lived with that guilt for a long time._

_\- No one has to die. We'll find another way._


End file.
